


Just A Taste (Alternate)

by Samara_Vellano



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Bestiality, Bestiality (Horse), Dub-Con to Con, F/M, Farting, Futanari (No Vagina), Inflation (Light), Rimming, Scat, scat eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23873158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samara_Vellano/pseuds/Samara_Vellano
Summary: Ketsueki ends up in an awkward situation and falls under bestial influence. (WARNING: Filth kinks!)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Just A Taste (Alternate)

For Ketsueki Minato (or Ket as she much preferred), thievery comes as natural to her as breathing to others. Far from cosmopolitan Edo, she was able to hone her skills over the years of her youth into adulthood, graduating from simple pickpocketing to grand larceny. She’s not only good at it, she truly enjoys it! The thrill of sneaking where she isn’t meant to; watching guards and wealthy marks roam completely unaware of her presence; the feeling of exhilaration that courses through her body when she pulls her shrouded leathers over her supple form, dons her concealing hood and ties her favored facemask tight. That feeling in particular sometimes comes back to her in the midst of waiting for a passing patrol to move away—or simply after she’s finished the job and is lounging atop a nearby roof. Suffice it to say, at times her satisfaction at a job well done turns to self-adulation in the most lurid of manners...after all, she knows how she looks in her ‘work clothes’! Those pants in particular; so many times she thinks back to her crouching or on all fours, crawling through some narrow chute or beneath a low table, her voluminous backside and meaty, pillowy thighs jutting out to non-existent onlookers…Alright, sometimes her ‘self-adulation’ ends up coming on so quickly she stops mid-job and relieves a little tension. But who wouldn’t with a bottom-heavy physique like hers! Perhaps part of her high libido is due to what lies between her legs; it’s far harder to ignore a turgid, throbbing member tenting pants than it is a moistened pair of panties!

In this particular moment however, the pale, deft brunette isn’t reveling in a successful burglary, or ‘appreciating herself’. Far from it...the job tonight? A disaster. She was caught red-handed, and so suddenly that she uncharacteristically fumbled the take—a gem-studded, gilded vase older than her family—sending it clattering to the floor in a thousand pieces She was lucky to escape the room, let alone the halls of the castle—although she’s not out of the woods yet. Or in them for that matter...no, she’s holed up in one of the worst places she could envision, second to perhaps the ground beneath one of the designated ‘chamber pot’ windows—and face-first with one of the most revolting sights she’s had the ‘pleasure’ of witnessing: deep within the castle lord’s extensive, ill-maintained stables, sharing a stall with the largest horse she’s ever seen.

In her line of ‘work’, it’s never always daring heists and the thrill of sneaking. She’s had to incapacitate or even kill sentries at times; she’s taken refuge in heaps of garbage, beneath fishgut-laden docks and in one desperate time, even the pit of a (mercifully freshly emptied) outhouse. But this was worse...not only is the stench of unwashed bestial body pervading the air, strong even when breathed through the thick fabric of her mask...to properly hide in case an errant patrol wanders through this den of harsh aromas and unclean animals, Ket’s not merely hiding in the stallion’s stall; no, she’s face-to-face with the beast’s haunches, and he is  **not** content to keep his tail still. Fortunately, the dim moonlight that barely illuminates the stables means that she only truly sees a portion of his horsey butthole laying in the center of his powerful legs, but even that vague glimpse of his abnormally puffy, oval ring as his tail swishes from side to side is bad enough! To say nothing of the smell, the  _ smell! _ Her crimson eyes water from the offensive odor—it’s just so strong! Far more pungent than any musk the raven-haired thief’s caught whiffs of before…she doesn’t even want to imagine how long it’s been since his hole’s been cleaned—if it ever has been.

Yet, with her not only staring at his hole, but breathing its animalistic musk in as well as feeling the heat radiating from the stallion’s haunches...it’s difficult for her to think of anything else. She doesn’t hear any footsteps approaching, so there’s no immediate risk of discovery...and it’s so quiet that every little movement or snort this horse makes draws her back to just where she is right now.

Behind a massive horse, staring right at his bloated pucker and huffing musky, humid air. Her mask certainly isn’t helping, with sweat already starting to bead at her forehead...so she opts to pull it down, baring her full face to the open air with an instinctive deep breath now that her breathing’s unfettered, only for that sudden lungful of pheromone-ridden air to hit her like a club. It shoots straight into her senses; even taste. Her very  **brain** reels from the stench; she hadn’t realized how shallow her breaths have been since taking her spot behind the horse! So strong...it leaves her reeling, dazed as she finds her balance momentarily off-guard. Stumbling forward, Ket reaches her hands out for the first thing she can get her hands on for support, one hand grabbing hold of one of the horse’s haunches...and her other sinking those gloved fingers into his fat, distended ballsack.

_ That _ gets a response from Ket’s formerly silent stallmate; her grip had been rather tight out of fear of falling, so with a whinny, that beast stamps its legs in place, snorting loudly as Ket feels like someone just dumped her in ice water. Her hold loosens, although she simply can’t find it in herself to remove her hand from his balls. They’re so  **huge** ! Sure, logically she knew that horses are more equipped than people, but...she always thought her own groin was sizable, but this? It’s unreal. She can’t even cup one of those testicles in her whole hand; they’re bigger than her breasts! This is...it’s just astonishingly perverse to have a fat sack like this.

And there it is...her easy libido was awoken once more. His ever-present musk certainly helped soften her up, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s now acutely aware that she’s fondling a pair of balls...feeling their weight as she hefts each orb held within, swallowing with a lick of her lips as the other hand resting on the stabled beast’s haunch slides further down, until she’s fondling as much of his sack as she can touch. Gentle, squeezing tugs and rolling fingers deep into his thick flesh, a light, near-silent shuddering moan escapes from her lips—

And reality hits her in a moment of clarity as she realizes just what  _ species _ owns the balls she’s been so attentive to in the past few moments. Her hands dart free, her cheeks beet red as she straightens in place, staring directly to the right to try and not have to look at any part of the horse, trying to take lighter breaths in the hope of lessening the amount of musk she’s sucking up. What the hell got  _ into _ her? She’s not  **that** much of a pervert! Right?

Unfortunately for Ket, she doesn’t get to stay looking away for long. The stallion snorts once more before suddenly, she feels the beast’s legs against her own form...and the heat emanating from his backside grows suddenly more intense. She turns to look—and instead runs her lips and cheek directly across his bloated equine asshole.

She wants to say that the taste is staggeringly horrific, and that’s why she doesn’t immediately recoil. That the musk has seeped into her mind, effectively controlling her so she couldn’t pull away. In truth? The taste isn’t that bad. A little musty, but...otherwise, it tastes like any other ass she’s delved into in the past—and it was so much bigger...Ket’s nose is buried against the center of his pucker, while her ring-pierced lower lip is pressing against the lower edge of his oblong hole. This is...she shouldn’t...she knows this is a line to cross—and she’s all too aware of what people would think of her if this somehow got out.

Her rational mind finally catch up with her growing lust however, and with an audible noise of revulsion Ket pulls herself free of that sweltering orifice—although thanks to the stallion backing up, even pressing herself against the rear wall she can only get a couple of inches away. What the hell has gotten into her? She’s only been here for...well, not long probably! Certainly not long enough to go from unaroused to horny enough to cup horseballs and kiss equine ass!

Annoyingly, the aftertaste is about what she’d expect from any other asshole. A little bitter, sweaty...nothing spectacular by itself. Although it brings to mind other encounters she’s had, with her rather eagerly burying her face between a pair of fat cheeks, sliding her tongue deep within tight and loose holes to slake her perverse urges…

There she goes again. It isn’t until she feels the tip of her cock, tenting her tight pants brush against one of the horse’s powerful legs that Ket snaps out of her reminiscing. She’s  _ hard _ ? From what!? Even she isn’t that much of a freak to get stiff so quickly; she needs something physical—no. No, no she did  **not** get an erection from kissing a horse’s ass! That’s just...no! Sure, it might be a fat, plump stretched donut, black as night and throbbing; and yeah, the weighty balls beneath it are the perfect size for her to run her hands over; but...but...!

Her mouth twitches, a frown creeping across her face while Ket takes a long, intense look at his fragrant shithole. She exhales sharply, pursing her lips. Her cheeks are hot and reddened, the taste of horse musk on her tongue as precum oozes into her panties.  **If** the taste isn’t that bad...which it isn’t, she can’t lie to herself about that now...and since  **no one** else will ever know…

She’s going to be in this stall for some time most like. The noble likely was awoken by now, and she knows just how much the greedy man loves his treasures. He’ll likely have guards swarming the grounds for some time yet...so she’s stuck here with her bestial stallmate. Aroused as she is...with a sight Ket  **wants** to hate, but simply cannot anymore...her will falters. Taking a deep breath, Ket’s lungs fill with equine stench as she leans her head forward to close that small gap between woman and animal. This time, her lips go for the center of his bloated backdoor, puckering as her nose nuzzles between the stallion’s thick donut. Her hands slide back to cup each of his virile balls, and before she can change her mind, Ket lifts her mouth off his pulsing horsey pucker, slides her tongue out, and drags it clear across his nasty shithole.

It’s one thing to taste with one’s lips; it’s entirely another to taste with a tongue. The brunette instantly salivates when the first rush of tart-but-tangy flavor assaults her tongue, unable to stop her body from responding in such a primal way. Before she even realizes, she’s sucking in air through her semi-buried nose—air that has to pass between the outer reaches of her bestial lover’s shitter before flowing up into her lungs. How much horsemusk has entered her body by now, she vaguely wonders—a mere academic concern at this point. The answer won’t be enough to stop her now that her desires have taken hold; again, this is no different from any of the other assholes she’s eaten in the past. Only bigger, juicier and warmer…

Her tongue works over every inch of that huge backdoor, salivating  _ more _ than enough to make sure neither her mouth nor his rear are anything but soaked in clear drool in short order. Ket pulls that increasingly musk-coated muscle down along the crevice of his hole, lapping at the upper reaches of his taint before partially squatting, her legs splaying to the side as she lowers herself enough to plant a quick kiss on the back of the horse’s balls. Resisting the urge to start slobbering over those jizztanks, Ket stands back up fully, trailing kisses from balls back to that humid backside until she plants a firm, passionate kiss right in the center of his musky farthole...then like she would with any other lover if they were in the depths of a more traditional kiss, the horse-drunk burglar shoves her tongue out past her lips, past his entrance and into the muscular beast’s moistened rectum.

Considering how strong horses are, Ket was expecting it to be more difficult to push his donut-sized anal ring open. Yet it didn’t take much effort to make his plump hole slacken, yawning wide enough for her entire  **mouth** to slip past that plush pucker, her nose all but actually  _ inside _ now as well! Far from putting Ket off, the realization that she’s got an asshole this large to make out with causes a wad of cloudy precum to spurt right out into her pants, eliciting a muffled, tight-throated moan from the perverse thief...just as the foulest thing she could possibly imagine roils up from the depths of the stallion’s colon, blasting out against the thief’s musk-soaked face.

Noxious, fermented gut fumes wash over Ket’s lips and straight out of his loosened shitter, sending gusts of gas straight up the poor woman’s nostrils—and down her throat thanks to her eagerness to slather that tongue all over the insides of the huge beast’s asshole. Even the sound overpowers her, that guttural churning filling her ears and mind as she momentarily blanks all her thoughts, too overwhelmed to even contemplate pulling away.

She’s never tasted a fart before, let alone smelled one this potent..it’s bitter, harsh and acrid—but even still, the smell of his intoxicating musk is caught in the midst of that truly mind-searing stench! It’s perhaps the only thing that keeps the dark-haired freak from pulling away once the harsh expulsion dies down and her senses begin to return...although the residual stench of those rotten fumes still brings her eyes to watering, threatening to send the mascara around them trailing down her cheeks. This should be the breaking point; sure, she was already past the point of being considered depraved for willingly tonguing a horse ass—but that maybe could be excused as simple curiosity! This?  _ This _ ?! It’s just pure degeneracy, vile acts that barely have any sexuality to them—just a base thrill.

At least, that’s what that increasingly smaller part of her psyche expresses, rather quietly compared to the burning need in her loins to take advantage of that oversized shitter while she has the chance. After all...what’s the harm in a bit of gas? It’s happened to her before with human partners; sometimes it just has to come out! It’s not like  _ he’s  _ complaining after all...Besides, normal rules don’t apply in this situation. The worry about being caught or what diseases this beast may have, her shame at failing what should’ve been a simple heist all fade to the back of her mind, with her biggest goal right now being to simply explore, in the most perverse of ways. Still tasting that rancid aroma, Ket resumes her ‘exploration’ of that befouled horsehole, her tongue starting to stretch to its limit, poking around the inner walls of the stallion’s colon. She briefly lifts her hands from the beast’s engorged ballsack and pulls her gloves off without a care, letting them fall to the hay-strewn floor as her bared hands return to those hot, dense oblong orbs. With a soft noise of approval, she gleefully sinks her delicate fingers into her equine lover’s wrinkled, thick sack, eliciting an approving snort from him. He snorts loudly with a light whinny following, and Ket’s ears pick up on something wet and squelching, down between the ebony beast’s balls. All it takes is a hand sliding forwards for her to confirm her suspicions...he’s clearly enjoying this as much as she is; that extended horsecock proves it!

Yet even though she’s just laid her hand on the largest cock she’s likely to ever touch, Ket simply returns her hand to where it was, tugging taut, porous skin in a firm yet tender massage. She loves how those balls hang so low, imagining them gently bouncing with each step...how they dangle and sway, their rich dark color contrasting so starkly with her milky, pale flesh...it’s almost enough to distract Ket from her drool-inducing work a little bit higher.

Almost. She may have moved down to her knees to turn those musk-stained lips to  **fully** pleasuring those cum-laden balls...but when she had touched that equine length, she felt something pulse against her tongue. A strange nub, firm but pliable, barely protruding from the sides of his colon. It was so much larger than she’s used to—and so much closer to the rim—that it wasn’t until she lightly pressed her tongue right against it, making his pucker clench around her lips while his gigantic balls tensed up in her hands that Ket realized she was actually tonguing the horse’s prostate! Fat like a large chicken egg and protruding far more than normal, that gland is absolutely  **massive** .

One of her favorite ways to get herself off is to take a curved rod and drag it across her own prostate, then when her cock has become a faucet of precum start grinding the end of that rod against her gland until her cock practically explodes, thick white cream going every which way. Considering how that makes her feel...she simply  _ must _ do the same for this stallion! If only she had one of those rods...but her tongue should be the next best thing!

She’s so enamored by the heady scents coursing through her mind; how large and potent this beast is and how the muggy heat surrounding her lets her mind dull down to a happy buzz that she barely even considers her own needs. Her rock-hard shaft throbs helplessly in her increasingly pre-stained panties and pants, her balls growing engorged as they anticipate a release that’s at this point looking to be quite delayed. And her earlier trepidation? It’s as forgotten as the threat of discovery. Truly, Ket’s become so wrapped up in her single-minded lust that it’d take someone finding her and physically  _ dragging _ her from this utter  **beast** for her to snap out of it...or, for her to sate her desires and tonguefuck this stallion’s asshole to completion.

Cooing softly into his moistened hole, Ket slurps her tongue back into her mouth with a smack of her lips, quickly kissing the leftmost edge of the stallion’s bloated backdoor before her lips start to suckle on a portion of his chewable, wrinkled flesh. She slathers her tongue across his ebony, velvety meat with hollowing cheeks, dragging her lips along that oval ring until she pulls back with a soft ‘pop’, admiring how his hole glistens in the faintest glimmerings of moonlight that reach through the stall’s rafters. Then without even a hint of hesitation Ket throws herself back against her equine lover’s raunchy backside, lips smushing against the loosened center as her tongue darts straight out against his cum button. Thrashing over it, grinding her tongue-tip into that taut nub and even going so far as to shove her face as firmly against his asshole as she can manage so she, however briefly, can  _ kiss _ his prostate! Ket works her mouth tirelessly for what feels like an eternity, the musky taste spurring her on—as does the occasional snort or stamped hoof letting her know that he’s definitely feeling her handiwork!

Still, bringing a horse to climax from doing nothing but fondling his balls and eating his ass is hardly an easy—or quick—task. Ket’s jaw grows so stiff and aching that it’s becoming less a matter of endurance and more a matter of physical limits; she simply can’t move it much at all anymore, her entire lower face becoming progressively number with every minute she doesn’t take a breather. Her tongue too even starts to tire, and beads of sweat pool on her face, dripping down to soak into her tight leathers—along with whatever excess drool’s fallen on account of her increasingly sloppy ‘make out session’. Just when she thought that she might have to take a breather, or perhaps have to settle for merely stroking that bestial shaft off however, Ket feels his prostate throb all of a sudden...and his balls tense up, pulling up towards his groin.

With several hasty steps in place and a rearing back of his elongated head, Ket’s latest hookup whinnies as a sudden eruption of mindnumbingly pungent horse jizz spews out onto the dirty floor. The first jet alone is more than what any human can reasonably produce in even two orgasms—and it’s just the beginning! For no less than ten whole seconds Ket merely rests her mouth and tongue inside that pulsing, throbbing asshole, dreamily reveling in the impromptu face massage as her ears fill with the sound of wet splattering and animalistic noises of raw, near-mindless pleasure.

Yet before she can even start to pull away and admire her handiwork, Ket hears the stable door creak open, and the sound of metal plates clinking together...along with the warm glow of lantern light casting looming shadows across the stables from within. Yanking her tongue back into her mouth, Ket’s mind races to decide what she’s going to do. She’s wearing all black and even with the light, it’d take a focused eye on where she’s standing to actually realize she’s there, thanks to the stallion she’s currently locked ‘lips’ with being as dark as her shrouded attire. But...moving might reveal her position. She can’t even see where the guard is; but she hasn’t heard any footsteps so it’s highly likely he hasn’t moved yet.

As if things weren’t bad enough however...that horse she so lovingly drove to orgasm’s colon flexes, and his shithole throbs, bulging outward. Ket’s fearful suspicion becomes confirmed shock and disgust as her lips come into contact with the foulest thing yet tonight—a solid mass of dense equine manure.

Moving would be suicide. Moving would be suicide. That’s what she keeps telling herself, ven as the pressure against her lips grows, testing her resistance. Who knows if there’s other guards out there? By the time she pulls her face off he’d likely see movement if he was looking inside—and not even her quick reflexes could silence him before he shouted. But is  _ this  _ the only other alternative?! As if to answer her unspoken question, steps  **do** echo out, inching towards Ket at a slow, steady pace. The mass of animalistic waste pressing more and more against her lips, heavy footfalls steadily moving down the center length of the stables. She can’t move, not even enough to break free of that shitter, lest the stallion’s foul load spill out against her chest and draw the guard’s gaze over here, even if for a split second. It’s a huge risk...and so it seems that Ket’s made her choice. If...if she gives in now, it’ll be easier to manage—and there’s less chance of the horse becoming irritated by the pressure and acting up—also drawing the guard’s attention most like.

With perhaps the greatest hit of shame Ket’s felt in recent memory, the pretty, pale-skinned thief opens her mouth wide, flattening her tongue against the floor of her mouth. Thanks to her sordid urges causing her to shove her face against that backdoor initially, her nose is mercifully free of having to endure the full brunt of his filth’s stench...but her mouth gets no such luxury. A crumbly  **log** of condensed shit spills forward, stretching the woman’s jaw to the limit, wider than any cock she’s had there in her life—even her own! And the taste…

...Is not as bad as she was anticipating. It’s not anywhere  _ near  _ good! However the strongest flavor is an earthy bitterness...and the texture is rather dry and loose, far from the filth she’s seen come from humans. Indeed, without her nose imparting much of her sense of taste via smell it’s almost...benign? Certainly not  _ much _ stronger than his reeking horsemusk...which is still wafting from the beast’s rear.

If only that was the worst part...as ‘manageable’ as the horse’s filth is in terms of taste when it comes to volume? It’s already threatening to overwhelm the girl. She  **has** to choke this disgusting mass down otherwise  the horse will react, and she’d have debased herself for nothing! So without taking the time to think, Ket starts chewing—and swallowing. Quickly, frantically she scarfs down wad after wad of that hay-strewn log, relieving the pressure on her bestial stallmate’s bowels as her throat fills with shit, dumping it at a near-constant rate into her empty stomach. Her mascara’s now running in thin rivulets down her cheeks as her eyes water to the point of tears—more from the sustained effort and effective lack of air thanks to the constant swallowing than anything else.  Her mind is under a renewed assault, simply unable to fully accept what’s happening even as her throat works to carry more solid filth down into her gut.  Ket can  _ feel _ her stomach filling as that overlarge load is shoved out into her reluctantly waiting gullet...just how much  shit was  _ in _ this beast?!

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of being the toilet for a lowly animal Ket can feel the ‘flow’ start to abate. Yet she doesn’t dare even trying to lift her face an inch until she swallows the last chunk of dense shit, groggily taking it into her overfull stomach. It must’ve been at least...ten pounds, if not more of solid waste shoved into her body. How she doesn’t feel nauseous, she can’t say. How she didn’t pull away, also a mystery. The  **single** good thing is that when Ket’s finished emptying out more than horseballs and dares to pull her face away from being shoved against horse ass, she sees a darkened stable once more. The guard left...no alarm.

With a low, audible groan Ket lets herself slump back against the stable wall, sliding unceremoniously onto the filthy ground with her large, shapely rear cushioning her defeated collapse. Her legs lay flat against the stable floor, splayed to the sides as her hands come to gently rub along the slight but distinct curve of her bloated belly  as she stares hazily up at that fetid, spit-polished shitter belonging to her latest lover.

She was hungry earlier in the night. She’d hoped to get some roasted beef and vegetables in the morning perhaps; a reward for a job well done. She isn’t hungry anymore however. Her meal cost nothing but her dignity, which is as shattered as the vase she tried to pilfer earlier in the evening. Her gloves lay between her legs, saturated in ballstench from her lusty fondling. Her facemask, hanging from her neck is spattered with her own horse-tainted drool, another product of her unabashed desire towards such a bestial thing. And her mouth holds the foulest, most pungent aspects of this creature—filth, gas and musk all combined to form a flavor she won’t soon forget—no matter how many rounds of drink she downs to try and wash it out.

Perhaps the most disturbing thing of all however, is the state of her loins. Her gaze shifts down from that ‘productive’ asshole, only to notice her cock. Still hard, still oozing pre based on the moist warmth bathing her shaft beneath panties and bottoms. Being an animalistic outhouse wasn’t enough to snap her out of her lurid state of mind? Or...was it enough to  _ keep _ her in that state of mind.

Being that this was the first time such a brazenly depraved thing has happened to Ket, she can’t tell. She truly doesn’t even know what to think right now, other than to try and...let her ‘food’ digest so she doesn’t feel as bloated before making an escape. Ideally someplace  _ other  _ than the floor beneath a horse’s ass...but she doesn’t really feel like it’d matter much. If he shits again? It won’t make a difference; she’s going to be practically  **boiling** herself and all her clothes in the first hot spring she can find—or any body of water; she isn’t picky right now.

Not picky at all...and there is one thing she can take care of, if nothing else. She’s been such a good lover for that big black stallion—now it’s time to take care of her own urges. Shit-filled belly or not, as she ‘takes in’ what happened her arousal begins to take hold at the forefront of her mind once more...and much as she hates to admit it there was only  **one** part of her time with this impressive beast that she truly didn’t like. At least she can stroke her cock to a newly enticing sight—and there’s plenty of lube to use on the ground, congealing beneath that hanging equine shaft!


End file.
